You Can't Always Have Ice Cream For Breakfast
by art.nerd
Summary: Jim develops some maternal instincts...with a little help from McCoy.
1. Prologue

"You know what? I don't even care how it happens anymore. This is just getting ridiculous." Jim Kirk stomped away from the transporter pad in a huff of frustration.

He turned to Scotty, "What is it this time? Transporter malfunction? Bizarre ion storm? Wizards?" The Chief Engineer wore a thoroughly puzzled expression and replied, "I cannae say fer certain, Captain…"

Kirk heaved a heavy sigh and resigned himself to the situation. "Well, it's not like we haven't dealt with this before. Mr. Scott, I'll expect you to find a way to reverse this."

"Aye, sir."

And honestly, Jim was surprised that this hadn't happened sooner—just about every senior crewmember had been through this…it just seemed to be kind of an inevitable thing when you work on this particular Starship.

"Okay…come on," he said, leading a five-year-old Leonard McCoy off of the transporter pad.


	2. Part I

By now, the crew was used to having their colleagues randomly de-aged into children, so they paid no mind to the fact that the Captain was strolling about the corridors with a kindergartner attached to his right hand.

"So…uh, I guess we should get you something to eat? You hungry?" Jim was no expert on children, but he was pretty sure they liked food.

McCoy just shyly looked up at the Captain with shining blue eyes and nodded, fast and sharp.

It was strange, Kirk thought, that whenever one of them got transformed into a kid, their minds were de-aged too. It would have been so much more convenient if they could still think and talk like an adult…and it would make things a hell of a lot less awkward.

"Uh…okay. What do you like?" By now they had arrived at the Mess Hall, and Mini-Bones was too busy taking in all the sights and sounds of the ship to notice that Jim had said anything.

"How about…" He wracked his brain; _What do kids like? What do kids like? What do kids—a-ha!_ "How about some ice cream?" At the sound of Jim's words, McCoy immediately stood bolt upright and _smiled._ "Sure!"

Jim found it weird that he was so taken aback by the reaction…_ I mean come on, _he thought, _he's a kid—of course he wants ice cream. _But it took him a second to realize that the real reason for his shock was the fact that Bones had smiled. _Well, of course you're surprised,_ he thought. _This is Bones after all… (Isn't it?) And Bones isn't exactly a happy-sunshine kind of guy…_ Nonetheless, Jim would have been naïve to believe that McCoy had always been the grumpy man he was…he must have been happy when he was five years old. But looking down at that impossibly round and innocent little face, he couldn't help but wonder: _what happened?_

Realizing that there was still an eager child waiting for his ice cream, Jim made his way to a replicator. "Give us some ice cream," he said to it. Nothing happened. Obviously his request wasn't specific enough. Kirk turned to his friend, —forgetting that he was no longer at his eye level—and leaned down to ask what flavor he wanted.

McCoy's brow furrowed in thought for a moment—a gesture through which Jim could clearly see the Adult Bones in him—and then said brightly, "Peach, please!"

It was an odd choice (Kirk had been expecting a generic pick of vanilla or chocolate.) but the replicator was more than happy to oblige. With Bones and ice cream in tow, Jim moved towards an open table at the far end of the mess hall.

Seated at the table, McCoy placed his bowl directly in front of him and eyed it hungrily.

Then Jim realized that he forgot to get him a spoon.

"Damn…uh…I mean…I'll be right back," Kirk said, getting up to go fetch a utensil. It wasn't a very long walk to the bar where they kept the spoons, and he couldn't have been away from the table for more than 45 seconds…but when he returned, Lieutenant Uhura was seated at the table beside McCoy, smiling and fussing with his hair.

But her smile faded instantly as Jim approached. She stood up to face him and hissed, "What are you thinking, giving him ice cream for breakfast?" Kirk gaped for a minute, not seeing what was wrong with that.

"Uh…I figured he was hungry…" Uhura rolled her eyes in obvious disapproval. She crossed her arms and said, "You don't know the first thing about taking care of a child, do you?"

"Well…I, uh…" he placed one hand on his hip and ran the other through the back of his hair. "I mean…I just thought…" Uhura sat back down beside the child and handed him the spoon that Jim had brought for him. She sighed and smiled with motherly affection as she watched McCoy dive into the bowl. "Well…I guess just this once would be okay..."

Jim agreed, "Yeah, I mean, its just _Bones_ after all—he can pretty much handle anythi—" Uhura's eyes widened and she pulled back to a distance of about three feet. "_That's Dr. McCoy?_" she said quietly and incredulously, her expression clearly conveying shock.

Jim brushed it off nonchalantly: "Yeah, just a transporter thing again," he waved a hand to indicate the benign nature of the situation. "Scotty's working on it."

It took a moment for Uhura to calm down—she had to remind herself that this sort of thing happened quite often on the _Enterprise_, and that the problem almost always inexplicably solved itself. After getting over the initial shock, she settled back into her seat at the table.

"So we just…wait?" she asked.

Jim shrugged, "I guess so."

They both sat awkwardly on either side of McCoy as he ravenously devoured the ice cream, completely oblivious to anything else.

When he finally finished, he let the spoon clank in the bottom of the bowl, and he turned to Kirk, said "Thank you," and accompanied it with a contented grin.

Jim smiled back and replied with "You're welcome," as he patted the doctor on the head and ruffled his hair. Little-Bones winced at the contact, and made a frown for a brief second as Jim tousled his hair. As soon as the Captain removed his hand, the boy set about placing his locks back in their original positions.

Kirk laughed to himself as he tried to imagine how that scenario might have played out if he had been messing with the _Adult_-Bones' hair.

"Well," Uhura said after a few seconds, getting up from the table, "How about—ouch!" As she was standing up, she must have scraped her leg on the table, for she was now bleeding ever-so-slightly. But that was enough for McCoy.

The child saw what had happened and immediately sprung to his feet to get a better look. Surveying the scrape, he scrunched his face into an extremely Bones-like expression. Without a word, he pulled a small metal box out his pocket and produced a disinfectant pad and an adhesive bandage.

Jim and Uhura watched silently as Bones carefully cleaned the scratch and covered it with the band-aid. The two looked at each other, and then at McCoy, who was now packing up his little first-aid kit.

Uhura smiled. "Thank you," she said kindly. Bones merely nodded and said "You're welcome," in an impossibly small voice.

Kirk then realized that he had not spoken in almost two whole minutes—a situation that he decided to rectify: "So you carry that thing around all the time?" he asked, motioning to the kit that was now in the child's pocket. The doctor confirmed, "Yes. I'm gonna be a doctor when I grow up. And mama says that if you wanna be a doctor, you gotta have lots of practice."

Jim was taken aback by the string of words—it was the most he had heard McCoy say at one time since the transporter incident. He found it ironic, because usually the good doctor would never shut up for more than a few minutes. And it was also worth noting that, somehow, in this smaller body, the thick Georgia twang was slightly more prominent in his voice. If Kirk hadn't known the man that this kid would grow up to be…then he might have found him…_adorable_. Oh hell; who was he fooling? Little-Bones _was_ adorable.

"A doctor, huh?" Jim said, crouching down to bring his face level with Bones'. The little boy smiled proudly and shook his head, "Yep." Kirk and Uhura glanced knowingly at each other and she said, "Well, in that case, thank you. _Doctor _McCoy. Someday, Starfleet will be lucky to have a talent like yours." The little boy swelled with pride, grin still plastered on his face.

--- --- ---

Later that afternoon, Captain Kirk sat in the command chair, filling out the mountain of mind-numbing paperwork that Starfleet required him to complete each day.

He had left Bones in the care of Nurse Chapel, in sickbay. Perhaps that had not been one of his wiser decisions, seeing as she now also temporarily held the rank of Chief Medical Officer; with Bones in his…_condition_, it kind of went without saying that he wasn't fit for duty.

Which reminded him: he needed the weekly reports of the physicals that Chapel had conducted today. He pressed the intercom button on his armrest, "Kirk to sickbay." A moment later, the nurse's voice replied, "Chapel, here." "Nurse, could you please bring those physical reports to the bridge at you earliest convenience? Kirk out." He released the com button and returned to his paperwork.

He was surprised when Christine's voice came through again."Actually, Captain…" The way she trailed off did not indicate an ideal situation.

"Is there a problem, nurse?" he asked into the intercom, wondering if he even _wanted_ to know what was going on.

Her voice sounded a second later. "It's…Dr. McCoy," she hesitated before saying "Doctor."

Kirk needed no further persuasion. All day, he had been ready to jump at the first sign of any kind of Bones-related problem. He quickly moved to the turbolift and indicated that Uhura now had the con.

Approximately 3.89 seconds later, Kirk was hurrying along a corridor towards sickbay. When he arrived, Nurse Chapel was busy putting away various containers and cleaning up some kind of bright purple substance that had spilled out of an overturned jar.

Sitting in the corner, conspicuously still, was McCoy. He had his knees curled up to his chest, and his face was half-buried in them. Obviously, he had just been scolded for something.

The Captain turned his attention to Nurse Chapel. "Nurse, what's the problem?" She strode over to him and grabbed his arm to turn him away from Bones. "It's Dr. McCoy, Captain. He's been constantly rearranging everything in sickbay, and he keeps trying to treat the patients every time I have my back turned! Frankly, Captain: he's getting in the way."

Kirk rubbed his chin, as he was wont to do when he was thinking something over. Christine realized that her complaint must have come across as selfish whining, so she clarified, "Captain, it's more of a safety issue than anything else—it's dangerous to have a child running around a medical facility, no matter what the conditions. I've been trying my best to handle it all afternoon, but at this point, he's just too much…and I don't want to put a crewman's life in danger just because I have to play babysitter." She finished bluntly and folded her arms.

He mulled over her words and said, "You're absolutely right, Nurse. It was a mistake on my part to burden you with that responsibility. I'll get him out of here immediately." He smiled warmly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the air.

Chapel returned the smile, and her posture relaxed a bit, "Well, I suppose I could have said something sooner…but I figured that the Captain knew best." She turned around to look at McCoy. "He's really a good kid, you know; very sweet. He has a fascinating natural curiosity in him—not difficult to see how he got into the medical field. But he's so small and innocent; I keep forgetting that he's my superior officer!" she laughed and turned back to Kirk.

McCoy, on the other hand, seemed to be completely oblivious to the adults' conversation; still sitting in the corner, he was busy counting the supplies in his little pocket-sized medical kit. All of the band-aids were all arranged in neat piles, sorted according to shape, and the disinfectant pads, disposable hypos, and vitamin packets were all divided into some kind of organization system that seemed to only make sense to the child.

He was so immersed in the task that he almost didn't notice when the Captain started talking to him. "—so how about I take you up the Bridge? Would you like that?" The child sprung up immediately, "Boy would I!" He quickly scooped up his kit and made a bolt for the door. Kirk said goodbye to Nurse Chapel and followed the eager boy to the turbolift.


	3. Part II

The Bridge was bustling with activity when Jim and Bones arrived. Again, this was not one of Kirk's better ideas. The Bridge was no more a place for a child than sickbay was—in fact, it was probably even worse. But he only had twenty more minutes before he was off-duty, so he decided to stick it out.

Captain Kirk took his place in the command chair, and McCoy stood shyly on the right side of the chair, taking in the scenery around him.

From across the room, Mr. Spock said "Captain, we are picking up an anomalous reading from the star system…" He trailed off as he walked to stand by the Captain's chair, only to find his spot occupied by a small child.

The Vulcan looked down and quirked an eyebrow quizzically as he tried to fathom an explanation for the situation. "Captain, may I inquire as to why there is a young Human child on the Bridge? It seems to be a most illogical location for such a being."

Sighing, Kirk replied, "It's…a long story. One I'm sure you'd relish in unraveling for yourself. But to make a long story short: That's Dr. McCoy," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the boy.

Spock's eyebrows rose dangerously high and almost disappeared into his hair. "Fascinating."

Jim smiled, "I figured you would think so." Spock glanced down at the tiny Human, "The transformation, temporary as it may be, seems to have affected his mental capacities, to some degree; for _our _Dr. McCoy would be aware enough of his surroundings to ascertain that it would be more logical for him to stand on the left side of the chair, rather than the right." That was about as close to a joke as Spock had come in a long time. Perhaps it was not his place to get snarky with a child, but knowing that this was in fact Leonard McCoy, he now could not bring himself to treat him like anything other than an adult Chief Medical Officer.

He brushed off the momentarily territorial mood, and, trying not to let a trace of jealously creep into his voice, Spock relented, and moved to stand on the other side of the Captain's chair.

The Captain grew serious again. "Now, Spock: what was that you were saying about the star system?" Spock, who had been studying the child, snapped up, "It is unimportant, Captain. I shall continue to keep tabs on the situation in the event that it becomes a threat to the ship's safety."

Nodding, Jim accepted Spock's judgment; partly because he knew that there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. And that pressing matter was sitting shyly on the floor beside the Captain's chair.

It seemed like an eternity ago that he and Bones had beamed over to the Starbase for the supply retrieval, but in reality, it had only been just over seventeen hours. This still seemed like an eternity, to him. Jim was actually starting to feel…_anxious?_ It had never taken Scotty this long to fix a problem like this, and Kirk was getting nervous that this might be one problem he couldn't solve.

He didn't even want to think about the fact that he might never see Bones again. Well…_his_ Bones, anyway. So instead, he attempted to turn his attention elsewhere.

Glancing at the ship's clock, Kirk noticed that he only had two more minutes to be on-duty. Those two minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace, and he let out a long breath of relief when the clock numbers finally switched to 2300 hours.

"Okay," he said hastily, hopping up from the chair. "My shift's up; let's go see if Scotty's figured this thing out yet." He flipped a few switches on the arm panel before relinquishing his seat to Mr. Spock, who would be in command for the night shift.

"Good night, Mr. Spock," Jim said warmly as McCoy followed him to the turbolift. Spock merely nodded tightly in return, but Kirk knew that it meant "Good night, Jim."

Before leaving the Bridge, the Captain pressed the button for the wall-intercom. "Mr. Scott, this is the Captain." He let go of the switch and waited for a reply. A moment later, his Chief Engineer's voice crackled back, "Aye, Scott here, Captain." Kirk replied, "Scotty, have you been able to make any progress on…" he paused and glanced down at the child, "on the…_situation_?"

There was a longer pause before Mr. Scott spoke again. "…Negative, Captain. This is no' an easy task—yer lucky Ah've gotten as far as I 'ave. But…" The way he trailed off suggested that there was a big "IF" involved. The Captain pressed on, "Yes Scotty, what?"

"Well," said Scott, "According to a report that Mr. Spock forwarded about four hours ago, there's a chance that the ship's orbit could come within close range of the Centauri star system, which is currently experiencing severe ion storms. I cannae promise any'thin, but _if _we can get close enough, there's a _chance_ that the magnetic distortion could be enough to reverse the polarity on the transporter beam…and if we can get that, then re-aging Dr. McCoy should be child's play."

Kirk groaned inwardly at the irony of Scotty's metaphor, but was grateful for his solution nonetheless. Since the Captain had not yet left the Bridge, Mr. Spock couldn't help but overhear their conversation. "Captain, the anomaly that I attempted to bring to your attention earlier—it is the same one, in the Centauri star system, to which Mr. Scott now refers. I did not wish for you to become preoccupied with it, so I withheld the information; but now I feel that you should know: If this vessel were to venture too close to an area with that kind of ionic turbulence, then the gravitational fluctuations would surely tear the ship apart."

This news obviously troubled the Captain. "There must be a way to get close enough without getting trapped in the gravitational field. Mr. Scott, begin calculations on a minimum safe distance from the Centauri star system. I want us close enough to reverse the transporter polarity, but far enough away so that neither the crew nor the ship is in any kind of danger. There _has_ to be a way."

Spock considered this for a moment. "Captain, the odds of achieving such a position are approximately 4,392 to 1. There is a large margin for error, and no way of guaranteeing that the orbit will be 100% safe."

"But if it's our only hope of fixing Bones, then we've _got_ to take that chance," Kirk said with resolve. Spock nodded, knowing that there was no way to change the Captain's mind once it was made up.

The Captain's next question was directed at Scotty. "Mr. Scott, do you have an estimate on the time it will take to perform the necessary calculations and advise the helm on maneuvering us into the correct position?" There was a lengthy period of silence, but sure enough, the Chief Engineer's voice crackled back an answer. "About seven hours, Captain. Maybe six and a half—I cannae promise any'thin."

"Thank you Mr. Scott. Please send for me when the time comes. Kirk out." Jim released the intercom button and was about to walk away when the engineer's voice spoke to him once more, "And Captain," he said in a sympathetic tone, "Get some rest. There's no use worryin' about it until Ah've finished the calculations. Catch a few hours o' sleep—you need it more'n any of us." Kirk smiled thinly, "Thanks Scotty; I will. Kirk out."

Kirk issued one last order, "Mr. Spock, you have the con," and disappeared into the lift with Bones.

Once they exited the turbolift, McCoy followed Kirk down a long corridor until they came to a stop in from of a door labeled "Leonard McCoy: CMO"

"Well, here we are," Jim said as he flipped the switch to open the door. He led Bones inside and stood uncomfortably in the middle of the Doctor's quarters. "Um…so…good night," he said, and made his way back towards the door. When he turned to hit the control that opens the door, he saw Bones still standing there, looking absolutely tiny and alone. He couldn't just leave him there, looking all pathetic and whatnot, so Jim walked back over to the child.

"Uh…is there anything I can get you?" he asked awkwardly. McCoy sniffled and rubbed his eye, "You hafta tuck me in and sing me a lullaby, like mama always does." Kirk took a deep breath considered this request; he decided that it would probably be a good idea to do what Bones wanted, because the child looked like he might cry if Jim refused.

He inhaled, "Okay, hop up," he said, patting the mattress. Little Bones happily obliged and scrambled up onto the bed. Not surprisingly, Jim Kirk was not particularly well-versed in the practice of "tucking-in," so he went about it as best he could.

McCoy lay down on the bed and waited for Jim to cover him with the sheets and blanket. It took Kirk a minute to figure out what he was supposed to do, but once he did, he made sure that the child was snug and comfortable in the nest of blankets. He was about to walk away when McCoy called out, "Wait!"

Wondering what else he had to do, Jim turned back. "What is it now?" The boy didn't say anything, but he stuck his forehead up and pointed to it. Kirk was thoroughly confused. "Do you have a headache? Do I need to take you to Dr. Mc—" he caught himself.

The child just shook his head. "No! You hafta give me a good-night kiss. My mama _always_ gives me a good-night kiss." He pointed to his forehead again. Jim took another deep breath and swallowed hard. Again, thinking it best not to upset the fragile child, he decided to comply.

Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a maternal kiss to McCoy's brow. The child smiled contentedly and wriggled further down into the covers so that only his head was exposed. "Now you hafta sing me my bedtime song!"

"Okay," Kirk relented, "What song do you want to hear?" Bones didn't even have to think about it. "_'Old Georgia Moon.'_ That's the one my mama always sings to me."

"Well, how does it go?" Kirk asked. Bones stumbled through the words, but Jim got the gist of it. He asked the boy to hum along with him so he could pick up the tune. It didn't take long for him to catch on, and before he knew it, the room was filled with a sweet, but heartbreaking melody.

_When the sun sinks below the horizon_

_And the stars all come out to greet me_

_I can bask in their twinkles and starshine_

_I can fly in the sky and be free_

_Take me home, take me home_

_I can feel it; I'll see the light soon_

_Take me home, take me home_

_To my shining old Georgia moon_

_But when all of the lights lose their twinkle_

_And all of the stars go away_

_My old Georgia moon will embrace me_

_And hold me close as I sway_

_Take me home, take me home_

_I can feel it; I'll see the light soon_

_Take me home, take me home_

_To my shining old Georgia moon_

By the time Jim finished, Bones was fast asleep. He quietly got up and moved silently towards the door. Just before he closed the door, he looked back one more time at the sleeping child. McCoy looked impossibly peaceful as he lay there, immersed in a world of dreams. Involuntarily, Jim smiled.

Kirk let the door _whoosh_ shut behind him, and he started down the corridor towards his own quarters. With every step, he became more aware of how exhausted he really was. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a decent night's sleep; there was almost always some kind of late-night emergency that required his presence on the Bridge.

As soon as he got to his room, he stepped inside and collapsed on the bed. It was not long before he fell into a deep sleep, still wearing his command shirt.


	4. Part III

His slumber didn't last long. It seemed like only five minutes had passed when there was a chime at his door. When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was that the ship was bouncing around rather turbulently and there were crashing noises inside and outside of the ship; evidence of a severe ion storm—they must be getting close to the Centauri system. Groggily, he rose to answer the chime. He pushed the button to open the door, rubbing his eyes and wondering who would be coming to his quarters at this hour of the night. _It's probably Scotty_, he thought. _But why couldn't he have just called on the intercom? _He pressed the button and the door slid open.

But it was not Scotty standing on the other side; it was Bones. The little boy was shaking and hugging a blanket around his shoulders. His eyes were wet and puffy; he had obviously been crying. Since he was still half asleep, it took a minute for the scene to register for Jim. For a while, all he could do was stand there stupidly and yawn.

When he realized what was happening, he quickly herded McCoy into his quarters and shut the door. There was a large crash outside the window portal, and the ship lurched as they were walking across the room. The child cried out in terror and buried his face in Kirk's leg. Suddenly, Jim understood _exactly_ what was going on.

Without a word, Kirk patted McCoy on the back until he stopped sobbing and his breathing evened out. When the little boy was sufficiently calmed, he looked up at Jim; but he still wouldn't let go of his leg. "What's going on?" Bones asked shakily.

"It's…" Jim considered telling him the truth, but he figured that that would only scare him more. "It's just the wind," he said lightly, still trying to soothe the boy. Just then, there was another spell of turbulence, and this only renewed Bones' tears.

Kirk took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to do. McCoy showed no sign of letting go of him—he was far too terrified. "What do you need?" Jim asked, almost desperately. The child looked up again with his wet blue eyes. "Can I sleep in here?" he asked. Kirk smiled kindly and patted him on the head. "Of course you can," he said.

The Captain then set about making a small bed on the floor for Bones. He gathered some spare pillows and a whole mess of blankets to prepare a suitable sleeping area. When he finished, he called McCoy over and helped him get situated in the covers. The ship was jostled once more, but Jim was there to keep the child from bursting into tears again. "Shhh, it's okay; I'm here. Don't worry; I'll be right here all night. Nothing's going to happen to you." Bones seemed to believe him, for he relaxed slightly and snuggled into his blankets.

Kirk repeated the bedtime routine that he had performed naught but an hour or two ago: tucking the boy snuggly into the covers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, and singing him his favorite song.

This time, Bones wasn't asleep when Kirk finished, so he said "Good night…Leonard," and then got into his own bed. It was strange using Bones' first name; he hadn't called him by it since their academy days. But the boy wouldn't have known what Jim meant if he had called him "Bones."

As the Captain attempted to fall asleep, the ship continued to toss and turn and loud noises could still be heard all around. Just barely audible above the tumult of the ion storm was the sound of a small child crying softly, trying to keep it together and prove that he could be a big boy.

Jim was three-quarters of the way asleep when he heard a rustling of blankets on the floor beside his bed. He was far too drowsy to actually pay attention, so he didn't notice when the little boy got up and climbed into the bed with him. And though the storm continued to rage, there were no more tears.

---

The next time Jim awoke, it was because the intercom by his head was buzzing. He gently moved McCoy's head, so as not to disturb his peaceful slumber, and answered the call. "Kirk here." To his immense relief, Scotty's voice spoke back to him, "Scott here, Captain. We've arrived at the Centauri star system, minimum safe distance has been achieved, and all transporter tests have been conducted with positive results. If you're ready, then you and Dr. McCoy are needed in the transporter room immediately."

There was no news that Kirk wanted to hear more than that. He went to his dresser to slip on a command shirt, but he realized that he was still wearing the one from yesterday. Next, he went to wake Bones. As he moved to shake McCoy gently by the shoulder, he paused. He almost felt guilty waking the boy; he looked so content as he lay there sleeping. And he certainly deserved to rest after the terror he had been through last night.

But Jim knew that he _had_ to be awoken now, and he _had _to be taken to the transporter room, and he _had_ to be changed back to normal…didn't he? Would it be completely wrong to allow Bones to continue this carefree existence? Would it be morally repugnant to give him back his youth—something that most people would sell their soul for?

The answer was yes. No matter how tempting it may be to let someone relieve the best years of their life, to start over and avoid the mistakes they made the first time, Jim Kirk knew that that wasn't how it was meant to be. Leonard McCoy was destined to live his life exactly as he had, and it was not up to Jim to make this decision.

And even if it was, he couldn't bear the thought of losing _his_ Bones forever.

He reached over and shook McCoy lightly until his eyelids fluttered open. "Hey," he said softly, "C'mon; it's time to get up—I've…I've got a surprise for you." Jim felt bad deceiving him like this, but he knew it was the only way to coax him into the transporter room. The ship was still experiencing heavy turbulence—in fact, it was now worse than ever, due to their close proximity to the storm—and Bones reached out for Jim's hand the instant he felt even a little lurch.

"A surprise?" the boy said sleepily, "What kind of surprise?" He slid off the bed and followed Kirk to the door, still not letting go of his hand. Jim evaded the question, "Oh…uh…you'll see."

A few minutes later, the pair arrived at the transporter room, where Scotty and Mr. Spock were waiting for them. As soon as the Captain entered the room, the other two officers began giving him a report of their progress. The lengthy and technical conversation carried on for several minutes; secretly, Kirk didn't care the least bit about the mathematical details of the solution—he only cared that it worked.

When the three adults had finished talking, Spock turned to address McCoy. "Doctor, if you would—" he stopped abruptly as the child hid from him behind the Captain. The boy peeked fearfully at the Vulcan from behind Jim's knees. Kirk explained to Spock, "You can't just talk to him like he's an adult; you have to be gentle. Like this," he directed his next statement at McCoy. "Leonard, remember the surprise I told you about? Well, first you're going to have to step up here on the transporter pad. Okay? Can you do that?" The boy thought for a moment and then nodded. Jim smiled at him, "Great. Now c'mon," he said, beckoning Bones up onto the pad.

It took a bit of coaxing to get the boy to relinquish his grip on Kirk's hand, but once he did so, he seemed to be fine for the time being—and that was all the time they needed. The Captain quickly stepped back and signaled for Scotty to initiate the beam. As the gold shimmer enveloped his friend, he asked Scotty, "You're sure this'll work, right?" Mr. Scott nodded, "Aye, it should, sir."

The two humans held their breath as Scotty worked the transporter controls, trying to loop back McCoy's pattern. A minute or two later, the gold haze returned, and a new figure began to materialize on the pad.

Standing there was a tall, grumpy, middle-aged physician. And Jim could not have been happier to see him.

Dr. McCoy stepped off of the transporter pad and joined the group of men standing in the room. "Well," said the doctor happily, glancing at the clock, "We sure made good time on that supply run. Whole transaction done in under a half-hour." Obviously he had no recollection whatsoever of the events that had occurred that day, for if he did, then he would know that over twenty-four hours had passed since he and the Captain had beamed over to the Starbase the previous morning.

Meanwhile, the ion storm still raged just outside the ship. A particularly strong wave collided with the hull and sent the ship's occupants tumbling to the side. Dr. McCoy was caught off guard by the shock, and instinctively grabbed a hold of the Captain's hand. It took him a moment to realize what he had done, and when he did, he hastily let go and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Sorry Jim," he said embarrassedly. Kirk simply smiled knowingly and replied, "That's okay, Bones."


	5. Epilogue

By the following afternoon, the _Enterprise _was out of Centauri's range and the turbulence had ceased. Other than that brief detour, life on the ship had not skipped a beat. Most thankful for this was the Captain, who was now on the Bridge, completing even more paperwork.

After some time, Mr. Spock came over to stand behind the command chair, relieved to find that there was no one else standing there. "Captain," he said, "I could not help but notice your newly acquired maternal instincts during the ordeal with Dr. McCoy." Kirk was taken aback. "_Maternal instincts_?" he had never really thought about it that way, and immediately resented the term. "Well…I wouldn't say _that_. You just have to know how to talk to them; like kids, not adults. Be gentle and straightforward, but not condescending." He smiled at the Vulcan, "Maybe you could learn a thing or two about it, Mr. Spock."

Unfazed, he replied, "On the contrary, Captain, I already employ such methods of communication every day; they are necessary when one works among a crew of illogical humans." Kirk laughed and shook his head; he knew there was no use arguing with Spock about it.

Returning to his paperwork, Jim began absentmindedly humming a tune to ease the boredom.

_But when all of the lights lose their twinkle_

_And all of the stars go away_

_My old Georgia moon will embrace me_

_And hold me close as I sway_

_Take me home, take me home_

_I can feel it; I'll see the light soon_

_Take me home, take me home_

_To my shining old Georgia moon_

He was so immersed his task that he didn't even notice Bones come onto the Bridge. Before he knew it, the doctor was looming over his shoulder as he hummed and scribbled signatures. McCoy immediately recognized the song. Jim was startled when his friend spoke tom him. "_'Old Georgia Moon?_' Where in the world did you learn that one? My mother used to sing it to me every night before bed."

Jim stopped frantically—everyone had agreed to keep the previous day's events a secret from Dr. McCoy— and composed a smooth answer, "No, I think you're thinking of a different one; I learned this one…" he paused, "I learned this one from an old friend."

FIN.


End file.
